


sovershennyye ubiystva (murders committed)

by minseou



Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: Angst and Humor, Blood and Gore, English is not my first language!, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-03 15:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17286902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minseou/pseuds/minseou
Summary: 「there aren't just physical murders; there are also the ones that we commit daily. 」the media says that it isn't his fault, but he is stuck where he has failed. in where adam moonlit is further suffocated in the machinations of politics, the past, and his proper feelings about the man who watched him fail again and again.





	1. otava / aftermath (0.5)

**Author's Note:**

> 안녕하세요! my pen name is minseou!
> 
> this is my first time writing english fanfiction, and i am sorry if there are grammar errors! i don't know how many chapters this will be....

 

 

 

## THE PROJECT **FAILED.  
** ~~ _g o o d  j o b !_~~

 

 

     The project failed. 

      _My dear Eve, I am so sorry; due to my miscalculations_ ― but Adam finds that he cannot say those words aloud. At the very least, in the crevices of his mind, he can imagine himself parroting it to her again and again, seeking for forgiveness that would make any sound person spit on him and think of _murder,_  but in the unsettling silence, a cry is better than none. He repeats his unspoken apology again; it sounds more like an excuse than an apology, and if he were to say that to Eve, she very likely wouldn't even listen. He thinks that it is his fault. It is. 

     It's murder. If he can keep his two hands intact on his wrists, he surely can keep the lives of a pair of twins, but it's murder.

     The country blames Eve Zvezda, the most powerful (allegedly, they start saying, because they lost all of their faith; if she is so powerful, then why can't she give birth to healthy twins?) witch known to them at the century. They blame her for killing her own children; they blame her for possibly ruining herself as she carried the twins of god, they say that she desecrated herself with unknown witchcraft or immoral acts, and it incurred the wrath of the dragons. There are hearsays that because the Witch of Nemu (they refrained from calling her their Queen after her _failure)_ failed to keep her body and mind pure, the gods decided that the twins in her womb will not be suitable as their vessels. They blame her as she cries her eyes out over the loss of her children ― not the Magic Kingdom's, but _hers_  ― and the government's response is to remove a failure once it has taken place.

     They removed Eve, and they pitied Adam.

     They think that he's wronged; they think that Adam is wronged by the evil witch. They think that she charmed him ― _it's not true, it's not true_ ― because of her greed for the throne of the Magic Kingdom and took the gods lightly. He longs to speak up in her defense, to say that it was all his fault and that it was never hers, because she's as precious as the twins that she bore at the time, but the blurred line that separates love and need disappears, along with the feelings that are at either sides. She's as precious as the twins that she bore at the time not because he loved her, but because she was a means to an end. Now? 

     Now?

     Is it love, or _pity?_

     Eve's teal locks are reminiscent to the sky, the brightness, but he is accustomed to his dark, ambitious cogs. When she smiles, his heart soars and it tells him that everything will surely be alright, that the days will be brighter the sooner she gives birth. _The sooner she gives birth;_ that was what he thought about all along, using a woman as a shield, as a sword, against someone who is superior. There is nothing that he can't do; that was the thing that he wanted to prove all along, but he spun her mind and heart around like a merry go round wound around the string of a large top. They go round and round for her love for him and for the duty that she performs _out_ of her love for him; he made her thirsty for his love, and that was what he thought would ensure his success.

     Now, the light and life in her eyes are snuffed out, replaced with the spinning whirlpools of her tears mingled with her tainted blood.

     And _he_ did it to her.

     They sent her back to Nemu where she belongs, and he is where he belongs in the Royal Institute, devastated and empty for all the wrong reasons, for reasons that he himself isn't sure of. Across him is the man who he blames for almost everything; the removal of his mother from the seat of power, the one who made him do all those horrible things to Eve, to the country, to himself. Adam vowed to himself that he would never again show weakness before the likes of Seth Twiright, not ever since his mother was banished, but his nerves tremble with the repercussions of what he had done. The blame is on him, and on him alone. The body remembers what the mind does not, the body performs what the mind denies.

     He can feel Seth's eyes judging him from behind the lenses of his glasses, watching him quietly like the observant snake he is. It's odd to compare him to one, but his eyes are beady and knowing, as if he's always known that he would make this big of a blunder at the most important part of his revenge, his life. They are in a familiar place, a place where they shared laughter and frustrations with colleagues; the confined securities of the break room, but with the florescent lights off and with it being night outside, it is very much like occupying an interrogation room, with Seth leading the questioning. Yet, it's a questioning of silence; the gods (and it's at this time where he curses and spits at the gods, dragons they may be) only know how much time has passed.

     He doesn't say anything childish like: _'go on, laugh at me,'_ or: _'are you happy now?'_ or anything like that; he's jammed his fingers deep into the pretty colors of acid and drowned in it instead. He's drowning inside and there is only Seth Twiright to watch how he ends himself, but every option he thinks about is cowardly. His mouth is dry and his mind is swimming in the conflicting thoughts of his own ruined morality and the rage of having such a _grand opportunity being dashed_ (how dare he still think that way?!), but to hold onto anything as a lifeline would make him even more pathetic than he already is. 

     Adam's ears catch the sound of a sigh; it's Seth, and he waits. He waits for the onslaught that could possibly come; a mockery of his lackluster skills in the field of science, a gloating of how he's simply such a piece of work, but he feels that he knows him more than that. When he speaks, his voice is strangely very much like Eve's; bright, ringing, but there is a certain calmness and moderation to it. They both know that Adam wants an answer to his unspoken question: what do I do now?

     "It's a pity," Seth remarks quietly, "it's a pity."


	2. lyublyu svoyu stranu / love my country (1.0)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 안녕하세요! minseou here! thank you for the kind comments and the likes! 
> 
> my left shoulder hurts from typing too much, so i think too much computer time is no good for me....but what to do when i want to write? i tried to think as much as i can for adam's perspective, and i had help from my english tuition and got a lot of inspiration from the evillious wikia, so i hope that i can give the next chapter soon! thank you!

 

 

 

##  **СЛАВА ВОЛШЕБНОМУ ЦАРСТВУ !  
_~~g l o r y  t o  t h e  M A G I C  K I N G D O M !~~_**

 

 

    They are a holy country first and foremost; they _know_ that they came first instead of that _piece of shit_ Heldogort, with their delusional ideas and their wrong thinking. They are the disbelievers, and Levianta's children are the only ones who can discern right from wrong. The twin gods had chosen them, revealed their works to them and made them glorious and prosperous, with each person living long lives as they breathe in the blessed air. Only the holiest shall guide them, and it is the throne where they belong, to lead the people and to receive the word of the gods.

    But Levianta’s children – are not born yesterday; they are sounder than anyone else in the continent. They are given brains to work out the mysteries of the divine, and they are prideful in the fact that they are the chosen ones instead of the rest of those outside. They are welcoming, yet they too are enclosed; only the worthy can be considered as one of them. Emigration is tightly monitored and the systems of immigration follow the best of systems; they focus on skilled workers, family reunifications, and above all, the increase of magical families to safely integrate and contribute to a developing country. There is no end to development, because there is no end to learning.

    There is no end to learning, and that is why they never stopped to learn more about the people of Heldogort, of Tasan, of the many other lesser countries. If the gods have chosen a woman from Heldogort to be their mother on earth, then the people of Levianta have no qualms in complaining; if the gods can single out a pure soul amidst the filth that fill their heads with nothing but ruined doctrine, then all power and discernment to them. They will praise her as their queen and they will share in her glory, and as the fruits of her womb grow to become their gods incarnate, then they will be a true people among the lost.

    Or at the very least, they hoped.

    There is no end to learning, and that is why they never stopped to learn more about the filthy people of Heldogort, who, with their garbage teaching, raised a _whore_ who snuck her way into their country like a snake, wrapping herself around one of their most exalted scientists and claiming his mind and heart for herself. She consumes his heart whole in her mouth and delivers the dead (the _dead!);_ they turned to their scientists for help, for guidance, for assistance, because the gods are silent. The gods _must_ have warned them, and they must have not noticed. It is their own wrongdoings for not obeying what they have learned, what they have known all along about the people who worship Held. They are a modern people with the hearts of the _oppressed;_ they were oppressed by their own lack of knowledge, their own stupidity – and that’s why the gods have left them to their own devices.

    But good triumphs evil, and the government and the people are in love. They watched the tele-screens and gazed upon the face of justice – glasses-framed and neat-haired. His smile was gentle, reassuring; gone are the days of ignorance, of suffering, of being in the shadows of lies. The government will lead them back into the light of the truth, and with truth, the love of the gods will return to them.

    There will be another chance.

  _‘The punishment for the candidate, who failed to perform her divine duty,’_ Senator Seth Twiright said, _‘is death.’_

 

 

Relieved sighs, quiet cries.

 

 

They are free.

 

* * *

 

 

    When the announcement broke out a week ago, Adam could not see sense.

    His stomach drummed with pangs of pain – _hunger,_ he wanted food – and his mouth was sticky with stale saliva; there was no nourishment for him, because he didn’t deserve it. His head felt compressed; there are too many thoughts that can be housed in a small organ like that, and he feared that it would simply burst on him on the spot. His vision played tricks on him; he knows how they execute people with the highest treasons, and he thought of Eve, he thought of Eve. He thought of how her mouth would spread wide open in a shrill, blood-curdling scream – _multiple screams,_ in fact – as she would face a slow and excruciating death, how her eyes would cry tears of blood until there is nothing else left, how her limbs would contort until her bones would break with the most _terrifying_ of sounds. To the people and to the government, whatever and however much they would do to her, will still not be enough to repay back her betrayal towards them and towards the country.

    She mourned, and was still mourning for her – their – children, and to think that he dared to assume responsibility for her wellbeing and to guarantee the success of the project with whatever confidence he pulled out of his unworthy ass. She cradled the dead bodies in her arms, deluded herself into thinking that they were still alive, that they were only sleeping, _because they must have inherited something from my side of the family,_ she prattled on repeatedly. Heavy sleepers, heavy sleepers. Even when they took the corpses away from her hands, she still cradled air with her two hands cupped, and tears still streamed down her face.

    She still smiled widely.

    There was an option; he could run with her, and he could save her from it all. He could rescue her like the prince she thought he was, and they would flee to Held’s Forest and they would get married. They could forget about the past and live, and time would heal all wounds, because anywhere is better than here. Anywhere is better than a place where they would hunt her down and pull her hair until the skin on her head rips and she bleeds all over the floor, and her heart and womb would be splayed out onto the soil as sacrifice.

    But he thought of the authorities, the law and the gods, as he dragged himself to where she was. His footsteps were heavy, his breath ragged, animalistic in his panting as he struggled even to inhale and exhale. His hands reached everywhere and he saw white, white and red, and he thinks of how he and Eve would run and stumble at the brambles in the forest, and whether or not her god, the god of the Heldogort people, will help them and pity them. Probably her, but never him – he imagines the shot of a bullet as it pierces through his skull and shucks through the membranes of his brain, and he would fall defeated onto the soil from where he came.

    He thought of his mother, his mother whom he knew and didn’t at the same time; wasn’t she the reason why he got Eve involved in the first place? How he charmed and seduced her silly, making her think that she was a princess in a fairytale with just one drop of a _love potion,_ all for the sake of his mother? He thought of how the Senate announced that she was not fit to rule, but since when was the Senate so concerned about who was on the throne or not, if it was a constitutional monarchy in the first place? _The means to an end failed,_ he thought, and his mind compressed and squeezed itself with the words coiling around it.

    The means to an end failed.

    _The means to an end failed._

But how could he think that way of Eve – beautiful, lively and human that she is? She breathes life into people and into herself, and she laughs with the wind as it sways. She wins hearts and takes care of feelings; she is considerate, kind and warm – and he cared for her, wanting to make sure that absolutely nothing would go wrong. _Under no circumstance should anything ever go wrong_ – but his stinging, bloodshot eyes fixated on the white walls that became his papers, his blank sheets. The walls were cold as he touched them.

    Two pairs of hands clung onto him; Eve’s, and his mother’s. They screamed for him in his tormented mind, and from his mouth escaped a most pathetic, desperate groan.

    To be for Eve is to live, whether it is for eternity, or for his last.

    To be for Levianta is to be able to breathe.

    He stopped short halfway to where Eve was and saw the law, the government, contained and embodied in the frame of a single person. Brown eyes, steely and still, looked at him from behind the confines of twin lenses, and he held his breath.

    “…It wasn’t her fault,” Adam voice cracked.

 

* * *

 

 

    When Adam asked people whether the execution was carried out, they said it was. When he asked Seth, he said that she was sent back.

 _“You_ sent her back,” comes Adam’s voice, tinged with disbelief at his sudden recollection of such a trivial matter. “I thought the country – _you_ spared her. You evaded the law, you spared her—“

    The break room, darkened by the night, does nothing to calm Adam. In his shaken up state at the time and the calm that came right after, he realizes that he forgot the most crucial ultimatum that the country had delivered unto Eve, and the fact that he didn’t catch onto her deportation logically fast enough floors him. He slumps into the plastic chair and takes deep breaths, large intakes of oxygen, and he almost feels like crying at the sight of Seth’s face.

    “As per your request,” the bespectacled man smiles.

    He didn’t remember asking him for Eve’s life.

    “To send her back to Nemu is the wisest course of action at the moment,” Seth continues, his bearings collected and certain. “The people of the country think that Eve Zvezda is dead, and they wouldn’t want anything more to do with Heldogort, much less the village. She will be safest where she belongs, and I’m sure this is the best thing that you can do for yourself to salvage the situation, yes?”

    “It wasn’t for me,” Adam debates hotly, “it was for her.”

    “You chose the country,” Seth returns. “Admirable, seeing as you are looking out for your own self. Very lucky.”

    _“It was for her!”_ Adam yelled, banging his palm on the table. “She’s alive! It was the best choice! You saved her!”

    “It _was_ the best choice," Seth agrees, taking a brief sip of his drink. "You must have thought of this very thoroughly, and for that, I commend you. Had you taken matters in your own hands and eloped with her, the both of you would either lose your lives or spend the rest of them being hunted by our government. You will be considered a traitor of the country, and for that, where will the both of you hide? And if the both of you choose to go to Heldogort, the country would be razed by ours in an attempt to find the both of you, resulting in numerous lives being lost and further hostilities between the countries."

    But what follows makes Adam's blood run cold.

    "But if I were to have any of your good conscience, any of your _love_ for her - as you claim to have, that is, I would have put her down, Adam," he smiles. "You have a penchant for adding misery not only to your own self, but onto unsuspecting individuals as well, don't you? While you _do_ have the endurance to handle much of the sorrows that life throws at you, yes, have you not once thought that the loss of her very own mind, as well as her own children, as well as being abandoned by the one whom she thinks she loves...."

    When Seth sighs, Adam's expression contorts into one that is filled with horror.

    "....don't you think that it's much better to die to end it all, than to live like a corpse?"


	3. otkaz / denial (1.5)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 안녕하세요! minseou immnida!
> 
> this chapter is going to be very short because i'm going to write a longer one! i'm so busy in school, but i will try to be fast! thank you!

  
 

 

 

##  **looking down,  
_can they see everyone?_**

 

 

There are just so many people that Adam wants to blame.

    It's a  _not-him,_   _never-him_  concept; he's the one who's wronged, not the one who wrongs others. He makes himself at home on the plastic chair in the break room, thinking that he must be rotting away slowly the longer he glues his ass onto the seat. His throat is flaky and sore the more he swallows ― he doesn’t even know how many days have passed. It’s not that any indicator of time is inaccessible to him, but to even reach out for his phone seems too troublesome, too much of a burden. It is another load on the self-inflicted burdens that he carries, and his eyes, droopy and heavy with grief and sleeplessness, remain transfixed at none other than _him._

    If even _he_ thinks of him as unworthy of the air they breathe, or of the food that they eat, then it certainly goes to show how far he’s fallen. He doesn’t say it, but it sure seems like it. Adam sees in Seth the flashes of teal, the breath of the living and the dead, and he likens him to a patient, silent guardian of whatever the gods know what. He sees an amalgamation of him and Eve, and at once, he buries his face in his hands, palms clammy from the mixture of dried and fresh sweat. It was Seth who arranged for Eve to return to Nemu, but there is a sour taste in the entire situation; there remains the burning question.

    _Why?_

    “You’re not the type to do this out of spite for me, or for anything,” Adam quietly remarks. “You won’t take a stick to beat me when I am down.”

    “Admittedly, words are all I have,” Seth relents, “and there is no reason to put Eve Zvezda down any further than she already is. There is no reason to berate you for mistakes that you already know you’ve made.”

    “Compassionate, coming from you,” Adam retorts tiredly. There’s no bite to it.

    “I do my best,” Seth says, and Adam can almost believe it. He looks at the Tupperware containers of food on the table, neatly stacked and tightly closed. Whether there’s actual home-cooked food or store-bought in there, it really doesn’t matter; he can’t even imagine himself putting anything in his mouth, much less eating. “Do eat,” Seth says, and Adam shakes his head. _Not hungry,_ he thinks, _can’t eat,_ he mentally adds, as his sleep-yearned eyes are met with the most blinding of colours. Four tiers of red, yellow, purple and blue stare right back at him, holding whatever mysteries would be able to fill his stomach, or none.

    “Schrodinger’s,” Adam absently chuckles – it’s a question on whether the food’s in there, or not.

    “It’s primarily soft foods,” Seth clarifies for good measure. “Eat.”

    But of course, Adam only has himself to blame; the hunger pangs and the sunken contortions of his complexion tells him all. He needn’t look at a mirror to know that he looks like a dying man, and before everything, he would’ve rather killed himself than to eat like a dog in front of Seth. His stomach – painful and aching otherwise – tells him a different story; the devil is sharing in his sufferings – _in sickness and in health._ Funny how an enmity is very much akin to a marriage; it’s something that both parties must be at least willing to be a part of, where there must be two who choose to bind themselves together in a relationship of love, convenience, or a set rivalry that may or may not matter.

    In his case with Seth, it’s not even a bond at all – the older one clearly never saw him as an equal challenge to begin with, thus Adam shakes his head and denies himself the privilege of a human need.

    “I can’t,” comes his weak rejections. “I don’t—“

    “Then it’s your prerogative,” and it’s as simple as that when Seth speaks. It’s a courtesy, not concern, and for a moment, Adam forgot. There is not an inkling of worry on Seth’s face, masked with an unearthly immaculate sheen that never seems to falter nor fail on him, and for a brief moment, Adam feels nothing but utter jealousy and hatred over the fact that while he feels too much, Seth has the innate ability to not feel anything at all.

    It’s infuriating, and Adam presses – squeezes – his hands at the sides of the chair.

    “Did you _not—_ ” Adam shouts; it’s all so sudden that it makes Seth’s eyes widen, “—did you not even _care_ when she was taken away?! It was Eve, it was **_EVE!_**   I…I promised to _marry_ her, and you know it, the whole country knows it, so why—“

    His mouth opens like a gorge, his sounds guttural and feral in his shouts.

**_“WHY DIDN’T YOU SPEAK FOR HER?!”_ **

    Then comes the whimpers – the childish whimpers that would not be heard by anyone beloved to him, because everyone who is beloved to him is gone. The quiet noises that his broken heart pushes his throat to make barely even resonate within the room, and once again, he blames someone else for his own shoddy, sorry mistakes. His neck is tense and his nerves are threatening to pull on him, to break as he bleeds inside to his death, and he realizes that yet again, he is doing the very same things that led Eve to her early demise. He sees Seth, bewildered and confused – or at least, probably, that’s what Adam wants to think, because he refuses to admit that there is not an inch of humanity left in him.

    There is a crinkle between Seth’s eyes, and he answers somberly: “I did all I can in an otherwise unsalvageable situation. Lower your tone.”

    Adam knows that Seth’s right, and yet, he retaliates. “ _’Lower your tone,’_ my ass!”

    “Are you not _proud_ of what you’ve done?” Seth asks, his disposition so mild that Adam was almost firmly convinced that he was mocking him.

    “Proud of _what?!_ W-What is—!”

    “Proud of your victory, of course,” the older scientist smiles placidly. “Through this case, you’ve garnered nationwide sympathy, and they would want the monarchy to solidify again. Constitutional as it is, the country truly can’t live without its figureheads, and of course, the people want the royal house to be protected, hm?” There is an ease to his words that make complete sense and utter nonsense at the same time, and Adam’s heart threatens to spill out of the confines of his ribcage, all to escape the harsh reality that he imposed on himself.

    _Nationwide sympathy. Seductress. Temptress. The victim._

 _Harlot,_ they called her. _Beloved,_ he called her.

    The only difference was that the people meant the former, and he didn’t mean the latter.

    “…I killed her,” Adam says blankly. “I did this to her.”

    It’s almost like an absolution when he confesses his sins to Seth; it was as simple as that, to admit that he did wrong to Eve, to admit that everything was his fault. It was easier to admit, even though the weight of his sins piled up heavy on his back and cared not on whether he could carry it around or not for a period of time, or for the rest of his life. He tells the truth as if he’s spilling vomit – he half-expects Seth to appraise him for telling the truth to reassure him that so long as he says the truth, and nothing but the truth – so help him, O gods! – but he knows that Seth wouldn’t give him the humiliation.

    There’s no use shouting. There’s no use blaming.

    “…Eat,” Seth quietly offers, and as Adam weakly reaches for the containers with his hand trembling like a leaf, he heeds the invitation as if it’s a command.


	4. osada / siege (1.7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the siege of Nemu.

 

 

 

  

 

## Апокалипсис  
0 . 1

 

 

she wakes - not fully, but enough to hear the promises of the divine in her ears.  
"sleep, daughter," the great tree lulls, and she curls up near the strength of his trunk,  
surrounded by danger unaware.

 

they had gone missing that night; he received the reports,  
and his witch has also left his side - taken, to be precise,  
but the matter of the red witch was a long time ago, and his people were present last week  
by his side, his closest confidantes.

 

there is a god in the vast forest,  
the creator of the lush greenery, the spirits that slumber within  
buried in the earth and brought back to life,  
for from soil they are birthed,  
and to the dust they shall return.

 

the great tree closes its eyes; there is a puzzlement in this,  
why this great kindness out of a whim?  
and yet, he accepts the girl slumbering by his trunk, his leaves shielding her from the heat  
and his might protecting her from wrongdoers.

 

 

 _but a wrongdoer brought her to the place of righteousness,_  
_so who in who is in the wrong?_


	5. prostoy sposob / easy way (2.0)

 

 

 

 

##  _good citizen ._

 

 

    In all honesty, Adam is starting to wonder whether the country is run by pure belief, or a whole mountain of lies.

    The concept of a man’s perpetual greed reeks; it disgusts him, but it’s a fact that the world runs around. _Ultimately,_ he thinks, as he takes a spoonful of rice and freshly cooked beancurd – in which it goes down his throat in a sticky and starchy mix – _everything that lives would give and take, but of everything, they would take more and give away what is of no use to them._ When he eats, he dares to _hate_ the food that has been served to him – the fact that a basic need would invoke such an angered reaction within him seemed so sudden and unnatural that it almost astounded him. It’s a reminder with every spoonful that he needs food to live, and that had he been a bit stronger in willpower, he wouldn’t even succumb to the sufferings of starvation as a form of penance.

    It festers within him – the hatred. It took root long ago and it blooms far more than the flower that dares to flash a madder red for people to look upon. He eats and feels like a beast (and isn’t he _already_ one, having done what he did to Eve?), and he is furious over his own decision to nourish and replenish himself that upon swallowing his current mouthful after a period of mastication, he hurls the spoon across the room, the hard metal hitting the concrete wall with a soft clang.

    “I….I shouldn’t be doing this,” Adam stammers, wanting very much to empty his contents onto the immaculately tiled floors. “I shouldn’t…..”

    “Indeed, you shouldn’t,” Seth replies coolly, as if it’s a well-known fact that Adam was throwing a tantrum like how a baby would. “It’s been a week and a half.”

    Bloodshot eyes, dry and crusty, look at Seth in utter mortification. “I thought….?!”

    “Time waits for no one,” he reminds Adam as he stands to get a pitcher of water from the refrigerator before pouring some in a glass, watching as part of the glass transitions from its transparent nature to a more translucent one due to the cold. He passes it to Adam, who looks at it as if he’s never seen a glass of water in his life, and he sits back down across him. “It comes to this actually. It’s the answer you’ve been looking for all the while.”

    “I’ve never even asked you a question,” Adam fights back. “Here you are, getting all cryptic just because you think you’ve won. Just one mistake on my part, and you think that you’re all that.”

    “There are mistakes that can be fixed,” Seth says, “and there are those that can’t.”

    “And this one?”

    A smile from Seth’s part. “Have you learned your lesson?”

    It’s far too patronizing, far too demeaning for Adam to take even though he’s already at his lowest. Pride grips at him, not planning to relinquish its hold anytime soon, and he almost snarls at Seth at the question being directed to him. “Don’t you—“

    “It’s a necessary question,” Seth replies calmly to Adam’s retorts. “Have you learned?”

    If anything, Adam feels like a dog being trained; there is an imaginary collar at his bent neck, and Seth is holding the leash in his hands, directing him like an experienced master.  They say that the older ones are more experienced, more world-weary than their younger fellows, and while it does prove true, it never showed more clearly than it does now. Tired yet defiant eyes look at Seth, entirely stone-faced, and he, despite himself, eats his pride rather than his food.

    “I have,” he manages.

    “And what did you learn?”

   “Oh for the gods’ sake…..!”

   “It’s fairly important that you learn,” the other scientist continues, as if he’s never heard what Adam had complained about, “because if you don’t, we’ll experience another failure on the next project. We’re planning to start anew due to the recent failure, and we also expect your full cooperation regarding the matter, so as to….ah, _reimburse_ your losses.”

    “Don’t you _fucking_ say it that way,” Adam hisses, his hands balling into tight fists. “Is that all the country can think about now?! After what they wanted to do to Eve, it’s decided that the best thing to do is have another project?! Where on earth are we going to find another woman for this shit?!”

    “If it’s true that Eve Zvezda is currently the most powerful witch,” Seth says, adjusting his glasses, “then we’ll have to look for the second best. It’s simple, Adam – no one even has to think much about it.”

    “There is no one who can replace Eve,” Adam insists. “No one.”

    “You’ll be quite surprised,” the other scientist chuckles. “Consider it.”

    “You bring another woman in, and the results will still be the same. Something unfortunate would happen; if not my miscalculations, then it could be something else.”

    “Possible, but think,” Seth offers. “You are at the height of public sentiment at the moment, and with the recent failure, something must be done to appease the people of what they’ve been robbed. It’s the Senate’s work – we come up with the means, and at the Institute, we do the work. If you join in the second project, you will have a chance to live.”

    “Are you saying you’ll put me to death instead?” Adam laughs dryly.

    “You’d find it pretty surprising, the people’s power,” Seth shrugs. “Truly, I see no reason why you should reject; everything tips in your favour ultimately. Win-win, as most of you would say; had you gotten your way the way you wanted it, you would be a king, but now that it’s come to this, you’ve gained the love of the people. Better a loyal citizen than being thought of as the pawn of a Heldogort woman, isn’t it?”

    “Don’t say that,” Adam says. “Don’t. You…..You adored her too. How could you say—”

    “She was kind,” Seth nods, offering consolation. “Good-hearted. It’s not too hard to be fond of her.”

    “Then why?” Adam asks. “Why move on so fast? The interests of the nation are one thing, but….”

    “To the country, she’s dead,” Seth quietly says. “To you, she should be too.”

 

* * *

 

 

    If even Seth Twiright has a heart, then Adam really should be the worst person to walk the earth.

    He goes about his routine sluggishly; he brushes his teeth, uses the toilet, takes a long cold shower for an inordinate amount of time and feels the water hit his skin, droplet after droplet. The pressured water is like a balm to his dying skin, and he feels almost renewed, re-energized after a long spell of being deprived of everything that he needs. What he needs is now what he doesn’t deserve, because even animals don’t luxuriate themselves after the loss of a loved one. He pauses to think as he stands in the shower with his bare feet embracing the cold, wet tiles of his bathroom; it’s definitely a mixture of love and pity, because if all it takes is for him to tell her that he loves her to bring her back, he definitely would, but not for her own good.

    Rather, it would be for him and his own self-gratification, for him to tell and convince himself that he is forgiven, that he has done nothing wrong, and that everything would turn out just the way they ought to be.

   But of course, things are not without its consequences whether bad or good, and he thinks about how time passes by without his knowledge or permission. There’s absolutely no use feeling entitled over things that he doesn’t – and cannot – own, and he thinks that it’s some sort of right retribution, how everything got so screwed over to the point where he’s seriously considering taking an offer from Seth, of all people.

    He shuts off the water and looks at his bathroom necessities; a toothbrush, toothpaste, liquid soap, shampoo and facial wash. It’s almost a wonder how someone would need so many things to keep clean, considering that everyone comes out of their mother’s womb slimy and sticky with the remnants of placenta, but upon thinking about it that way, he finds himself almost vomiting all over the floor – the thought of placentas and mothers and wombs brings a wave of nausea and disgust over himself. He coughs and splutters, thinking about the twins again, the twins that would never come to open their eyes in a brand new world, and he hugs his own bare, wet arms as he crumples down onto the tiled floors of his bathroom, coughing and crying for what could never be.

    Crying, for what never came to pass.

    But in a choice that he makes, it’s very telling of him about what he chose. He regrets, he grieves and asks for mercy and clemency, but in the end, he’s put an end to a long game that he may or may not win. Now that he knows the outcome, it’s all the more worse; he’s still young, fresh, green, inexperienced about everything that he wants to take on. If he doesn’t have the means to protect what is precious to him, there is no need for him to even try, because it’ll fail.

    And even if there is any courage left in him, even if there is anything admirable for him to grasp, is there anything that he can do about it? To have courage is one thing, to wield it is another. He thinks about himself; from the dust he has come from, and to the dust he shall return, and he belongs to the country that the gods have blessed. To them, he has sinned, but when the people embrace him and tell him that it’s not his fault, he has no choice but to accept it and think of it as a grace from the dragons, an indication that all is forgiven, all is rectified.

    If he has courage but doesn’t know how to use it, the country will guide him. The country will take care of him. The country will provide for him, will use him for what he’s good for, and will love him for all his betters and flaws.

 

    So he surrenders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the easy way out is never the right one, but sometimes, you have no choice!
> 
> that's the way that i think adam would be cornered in this chapter, because everything's all done and he couldn't do anything in the matters that he can actually actively help most.....
> 
> thank you so much for reading, and i hope that i can write the next chapter soon! please pray that i can write a little longer next time, these seem so short...


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